


Asleep and Dreaming

by MrsStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluffy, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Louis pretends to be big and tough, Louis' a HUGE Whitney Houston fan, M/M, Model!Zayn, Oneshot, Pining, Power Bottom Louis, Rimming, Smut, Songwriter!Louis, The Tomlinson-Styles Yearly Festive, Tomlinson baby references, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top!Harry, and there are penis cakes, blowjob, bottom!Louis, but he also writes songs and does musicals, but he's really smol and cuddly, but in a head canon way, fluffy like a duckling, i don't know what niall does, it's a thing, louis plays footie, mostly just stupid boys being stupid in love, musican!Harry, musician!louis, songwriter!Harry, sorrysorry, surfer!liam, the ziall is very minor, very subtle, with a pinch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:19:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsStylinson/pseuds/MrsStylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry still gets breathless just looking at him but after being best friends for two years you kind of just learn to laugh. Even when all you really want to do is stick your tongue down your best friend’s throat. Or perhaps that’s just Harry?</p><p>Or the one where Harry pines for a boy who completely turned his world upside down, not to mention his flat. As for Louis, he’s just a lot better at playing dead than he looks. Featuring night-time confessions, penis cakes and the inconvenience of falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asleep and Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> This idea happened late one night when I was sick of editing and stuck trying to write an epilogue. So I started writing this at about 1 am and didn’t stop until about 5 in the morning.  
> I kind of meshed university with (American) college. I don’t know how uni works in the UK but in Australia you don’t typically live at your uni. However my idea just panned out the way. Also the dorm room has more than one room inside it which probably makes no sense but again, suspend your disbelief.
> 
>  
> 
> AN: It has been brought to my attention that the use of language concerning the sexuality of characters in this fic may be perceived as "icky" or "crossing a line." I'd like to make sure everybody is aware that the position of characters in my fic doesn't necessarily align with my own views and that when something seems subtly offensive, it is usually a comment on society and not on someone's sexuality. I don't think many will be offended and I think it's clear that I celebrate people for being exactly who they are but just in case anyone was confused about my intentions. 
> 
> So without further ado…

Title from Asleep and Dreaming by The Magnetic Fields.

[My Tumblr :) ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lovehoperomance)

 

 

_I've seen you laugh at nothing at all_

_I've seen you sadly weeping  
the sweetest thing I ever saw  
Was you asleep and dreaming_

_Well, you may not be beautiful  
but it's not for me to judge  
I don't know if you're beautiful  
because I love you too much_

_I've seen you laugh at nothing at all  
I've seen you sadly weeping  
the sweetest thing I ever saw  
Was you asleep and dreaming_

_I've seen you when your ship came in  
and when your train was leaving  
the sweetest thing I ever saw  
was you asleep and dreaming_

"You do this half smirk sometimes. It's a little bit sinister, a lot mischievous. And I bite the inside of my mouth so hard or I sit on my hands. I do whatever I have to do to resist smiling back at you. I know one slightly dazzled grin from me is enough to encourage your insanity. Somehow you always win out right at the last second. Your eyes start to crinkle and I lose all my will power because they just don't crinkle that way for anybody else. How am I supposed to stop adoring you? You're a fucking menace and I hate that this is the only way for me to get through it. Whispered confessions at the stroke of midnight when you're asleep and dreaming in my arms."  
  
Harry looks down at his friend, marvelling at the way his skin looks caramel smooth in this green-grey half-light. His scruff is a little bit thicker than usual, his hair dusting the base of his neck and he looks like a smaller, even more delicious version of David Beckham if you ask Harry. Liam might arc up a bit at that given that his cover photo on Facebook is a split pic of his face lined up next to Beckham's. Harry can see a certain resemblance between Liam and Becks but as he traces the soft curve of Louis' cheek, he knows that Liam's got none of the swagger. Not in the same way Louis has, anyway. He certainly doesn’t have Louis’ killer footie skills. And Harry might be biased but he's pretty sure that no one, not even the man himself can pull off a tightly fitted jersey as well as his Lou.  
  
Well, not _his_ Lou. Not really. But sometimes it's a little too easy to forget. He's known Louis for about two years now and his presence is almost constant. If not his presence, it’s his influence. Harry had barely known him two weeks when he started showing up at Harry's dorm in the middle of the night demanding cuddles. Yes, demanding. He's kind of a needy little shit and yet he’s painfully stubborn. He has a habit of latching onto Harry like a baby octopus and begging to be carried around everywhere. Harry doesn't mind all that much, if we’re being totally honest but it would be nice if Louis admitted how much he likes people touching him. Harry knows full well that he's a massive softie.

He’s a messy crier, for instance and every time they watch a movie where a couple breaks up or a dog dies, Louis finds it comforting to climb Harry’s body and tuck himself into him like he just wants to climb inside. Harry ends up pinned to the cushions with tears dripping from his collar bones and a soft boy squirming around on top of him, trying to get comfortable. His heart never fails to seize up inside his chest and his fingers have this awful habit of curling around Louis' back just to pull him closer. But s _till_.

One time His Team ( _the_ Donny Rovers) lost a close match and Louis was such a mess that he wouldn't talk to anyone but Harry for the whole day. He even refused to part ways with Harry’s body; crawling up inside his jumper and burying his head in Harry’s swallows like it was the only way he could possibly hope to function. He wrapped himself around Harry in a vice like grip and Harry was forced to carry his entire weight around while he cooked them both dinner. Suffice to say that he refused to be charmed or cajoled into babying him any further. Even when Louis licked his chest and nuzzled up against his clavicle like a kitten.

Louis is a hurricane of overzealous emotion but he'll never own up to any of it. Don't even try and tell him he's anything but a thrill-seeking, rebellious prankster. He doesn't need anybody *insert sassy finger clicking* and if you try to suggest otherwise then he will surely punch you square in the balls. Harry knows from experience.  
  
" _I haven’t got a heart babe so don't expect me to walk you to your classes or buy you sappy gifts_."  
  
It was one of the first few things Louis said to him back when they met. The way they met was awfully jumbled. Louis had been told that Harry's roommate had a huge stash of pot. When Harry opened up the door wearing a flower crown and a couple of loose twine bracelets, Louis just assumed. It took a lot of guessing on Harry's part to figure out what he wanted and to quickly correct him about his identity. He was not the pot smoking, class cutting model who thought a university education might be a laugh. He was the curly haired idiot who blushed to his roots when Louis complimented his flowers and then seated himself squarely in his lap. Louis was in his second year, Harry his first and Harry was so intimidated by the older boy that Louis almost had to beat the shyness out of him. Harry still gets breathless just looking at him but after being someone’s best friend for two years you kind of just learn to laugh. Even when all you really want to do is stick your tongue down their throat. Or perhaps that’s just Harry?

Anyway, it turns out that Louis is a total flake. Or maybe just a liar. As soon as he uncovered Harry's deep seated fear of unfamiliar places, he insisted on walking him to each of his classes _and_ giving him a rundown of who's who and what's what. This included many, _many_ outings to local eateries and a hell of a lot people watching. Louis’ quite skilled with impressions as Harry learned. Harry was already in half love with before he heard Louis’ imitation of him. “Lou, um hi. It’s um, Harry. Sorry to like…fooking hell, is it reeeeeally three a.m? I’ll ask you about pigeon emotions tomorrow.” The record should show that Harry has not once mentioned pigeon emotions to Louis because he’s not a total nutter. It was goldfish and all Harry asked was if Louis had ever wondered why fish seemed to open their mouths so often. Like, had he ever thought maybe they were just silently screaming their way through the ocean. They breathe through their gills, right? So what’s the meaning of all this strange gaping? Louis punched him in the balls. Twice.

As for sappy Christmas gifts, the first year Louis gave him a hand knitted jumper from his mum and Harry was completely delighted. He knew Jay thought of him as a second son because Louis had dragged him home with him almost every weekend since they met. Enough that Jay knew everything he liked to eat for dinner and even how he liked his eggs in the mornings. He was there so much that Harry's mum had insisted on a schedule in which they both traded out weekends at each other's houses. Unsurprisingly, Anne was just as fond of Louis as Jay was Harry. The four of them have a group message going to this day and their mums are always texting each other complaining about how much they miss their boys or about how quickly they’re growing up. Harry's mum also let it slip that she and Jay often argue about how long it will be before Louis realises Harry’s in love with him and they end up happily married with gorgeous kids. Harry tends to scoff and roll his eyes at their antics but he's never openly denied it either. Jay sends him these knowing looks every time she sees him, sometimes pitying, sometimes insistent. As if she just expects him to shake Louis and scream "love me, beautiful human." But we digress.  
  
Apart from the Christmas jumper, Louis also got Harry his first guitar. He promised that they would learn together as they were both studying music and he’d gotten one himself for his birthday. Neither of them have picked it up very well but Harry can play a few basic songs and Louis….well Louis looks really fit with a guitar slung over his chest. The following year, Louis got him a tattoo… like on his actual skin. A _permanent_ one.

*-*-*-*-*  
  
" _You did what? Louis, that's fucking crazy." Harry bit his lip hard, eyes misting. "Show me_?"  
  
_Louis lifted up the edge of his top, exposing the sinful curve of his hip. Right there in pristine black ink were the words_ , " ** _London's....quite....big_**."

_It was a running joke between them. About six months into their blooming friendship Harry had been just (un) lucky enough to run into his prom date at one of Louis' games. She had no idea he was gay and he had no idea how to tell her. It was more awkwardness than he could safely handle on his own. I mean how do you come out to someone who wasn’t just your first girlfriend but your last? He hasn’t looked back since but he didn’t really care to explain the journey. Besides, it was Louis’ Game.  
  
Harry has always showed up to every one of Louis’ footie games with the number 28 painted on his cheeks in black and a sense of nervous anticipation bubbling away inside his stomach. It’s probably what he loves about Louis’ games the most; that his footwork is always game changing, continually proving Harry’s nerves false and reminding him why no one can take their eyes off number 28. He continues to be impressed with Louis’ attitude on the field to this day and he’s yet to see him make a mistake when it counted. _

_Of course there were always other incentives for coming to watch. Like the way Louis turned and pointed at him every time he pulled off something unexpected. Or the way the muscles in his legs moved whenever he put his head down and ran the length of the field. Harry certainly wasn’t going to complain about the tightness of his shorts or the mouth-watering flop of his dick. Yet he was just as taken with Louis’ style of leadership. Louis was always a tiny pocket rocket on the field, making heads turn for all the right reasons and shouting at his teammates to hold their positions instead of, "running all over the shop like a bunch of headless chooks." Yes, Harry liked to watch, looked forward to it even._

_To be fair, his former prom date didn’t know how much it meant to him. She’d taken it upon herself to flirt with him throughout the entirety of Louis' match, sticking close to his side and distracting him from the game, including Louis’ flawless skills. It happened so often that Louis began to notice and periodically glance their way, eyes narrowed into slits. Harry watched as his agitation increased and he began to play with an uncharacteristically aggressive approach. With a minute to go whatshername stood in front of his line of sight and Harry missed Louis scoring the winning goal. At this point amidst the crazy cheering of the crowd, she expressed her hope that they might run into each other again._ _  
  
"It's London Harry." Her sticky lips twitched with an overeager smile and she leaned in close, as if about to share something profound, "anything could happen."  
  
Louis chose that moment to slam into Harry’s back, wrapping his limbs around him and dirtying him with a pungent blend of grass, sweat and dirt. Harry turned his head to meet Louis’ gaze. He had no clue what was so fucking attractive about the sweat soaked fringe or the slightly cocky, megawatt grin but he couldn't help himself. He’d always been weak for it, he always ended up sporting a semi at Louis’ games. _

_“Congratulations superstar,” Harry whispered, wishing he could press the words against his lips._

_Louis usually waited until after he'd sung the team song to come find him so Harry felt honoured and innumerably glad that he hadn’t. He didn't dare hope that Louis might be jealous but a little bit of possessiveness wasn't out of the realms of possibility, was it? Louis did latch onto him tighter than usual, forcing Harry to grip his thighs in order to keep him steady while he scaled his back._ _  
  
"London's....quite....big.”  
  
It was the only awkward, half formed sentence Harry could manage. His former prom date, whose name he scarcely remembers (how awful) gave him a strange look and then turned and hurried off in the other direction. He might have come across as an absolute brainless twit but at least she got the message._

_Louis lost it, sliding down to the ground and banging his fists against the grass, mimicking Harry's deep timbre and cackling delightedly. The only way Harry could get him to stop was to throw him over his shoulder and carry him down into the club rooms. Unfortunately it only added fuel to the raging inferno of rumours that had been circling ever since they met._

_Rumours about them ranged from everything somewhat normal… "They’re definitely a couple because Louis has red trousers and have you **ever** seen Harry wear any? No. Because gays have a rule about that," (emphasis on the somewhat normal) to some that were downright bizarre….”they’re actually step brothers who fell in love.” There were some so preposterous that Harry had finally decided to make a list. He would read them back to Louis whenever he was in a shitty, throw-things-at-Harry mood... "I've seen them fucking. Yeah but they do it really weird. Cause Louis has a foot kink so he sucks on Harry's toes while Harry sucks his cock. Like a 69 kind of thing but Harry never wins. I think Harry opens him up with his toes too.” “Fuck this. People actually think I have a foot kink? If anything, that’s you. You’re always touching my feet.” “You ask me to!” “I don’t recall.”_

_The boys on the team were familiar with the rumours. So when Harry carried Louis in and deposited him in their circle, he was forced to endure their ribbing and wolf whistling, staring at the ground and going all pigeon toed while Louis' mates slapped him over the back._ _  
  
"Just take him straight to the showers Styles," Niall hollered, "our captain's a  very dirty boy."  
  
"Oi be gentle aight?" Louis shouted at the guy next to Harry. "He's not a fucking lad. I mean… he is a lad but he's mine. My lad. Quit slapping him around."  
  
Harry looked up and found Louis blushing beet red. He had this expression on his face like he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Harry had no doubt that he had, several times. He also recognised the harshness of Louis’ tone. That biting accent always returned when Louis was feeling particularly threatened. Harry could see him breathing heavily and glaring at the guy's hand like he wanted to rip it away. Maybe even rip it off. It shouldn't have been such a turn on. It definitely shouldn't have gotten Harry all hot and bothered. But Louis had never looked so worked up on anyone else's behalf before. Plus the fittest guy he'd ever seen had just called him "my lad." It only lead to more mocking and jeering from Louis’ teammates but Harry was perfectly content. _

_Later he took Louis for ice cream to congratulate him on his winning goal. He pointedly ignored how much longer Louis’ lizard tongue looked when he lapped at his ice cream, not to mention how erotic the sight of him licking the sticky remnants of his fingers was. Harry’s only consolation was the memory of Louis blushing and smiling somewhat shyly when Harry leaned over him and rubbed at his chin to get rid of his ice cream beard. But as always just as he started to hope that their friendship was transitioning into something more, Louis started mocking him again._ _  
  
"London's...quite...big," he repeated, poking at Harry's middle and cackling to himself like a kid._

*-*-*-*-*

_When Harry saw it inked on Louis' hip, a lump formed in his throat. He had to pull Louis into his lap just so he could hide his watery eyes in his shoulder._ _  
  
"Fuck. Thank you," he mumbled, loving the way Louis' soft shirt felt sliding against his cheek. "Best gift ever Lou."  
  
Two days later he had his own little idea inked.  
  
_ **Ruthless. Heartless _. Fookin_ adorable _._** _  
  
When Harry showed him, his response wasn’t pretty. Liam and Zayn had to hold Louis back as he went for Harry's throat. After a lovingly prepared dinner, a harshly demanded massage and two performances of songs from Harry's secret journal, (secret because they happened to be about the man himself) Louis calmed down. He ended up inviting himself into Harry's bed that night and using Harry's stomach as a pillow, head nudging the tattoo he inspired. A week later Harry got a huge butterfly printed right above it. He refused to tell Louis why when he asked._

*-*-*-*-*  
  
Louis’ not an easy person and you do get exhausted dealing with someone who acts a lot like an overzealous toddler. (Then again, what toddler isn’t overzealous?) Especially when that toddler is of legal drinking age and is always prepared to go five more rounds. Louis’ sullen looks and the drop of his bottom lip are even harder to refuse than a toddler’s too. Oh and don’t even get Harry started on his tantrums. Maybe it just bothers Harry because his energy would be an absolute gift if they were fucking. But they're not. They never have and the one time they even came close to kissing, Louis was completely inebriated and still too adorable to blame.

*-*-*-*-*  
  
_"Harold, will you dance with me?” Louis threw his arms up, shaking his hips from side to side. “Ohhhh I wanna dance with somebody! I want to feel the heat with somebody!" He stopped to burp, giggling as he continued his drunken rendition of the Whitney classic. "Yeaaaaaaaah I wanna dance with somebody. With somebody who loves me!"  
  
That could be arranged.  
  
So Harry let Louis drag him out onto the dance floor, lost in the enchanting shimmer of his insanely blue eyes and the edible swell of his arse beneath his skinnies. Louis grinded on him, low and dirty and then danced close, swinging his arms up around Harry's neck and tucking his face into his collar bone.  
  
"Do you think I'm pretty Hazzaaa?"  The end of his nickname dragged on a little like Louis couldn't help slurring, "am I a pretty boy?"  
  
Harry chuckled, ridiculously fond of this idiot with the huge black dick drawn on his cheek and the streak of pink in his hair.  
  
"The prettiest babe," Harry promised him, squeezing his waist, "so fucking beautiful tonight."  
  
It was a bit much but Harry figured Louis wouldn't remember in the morning. He was definitely white girl wasted and Harry was familiar enough with it by now to know that he wouldn't bounce back so easily. It might have been gross but he knew exactly how Louis' vomit smelled when he’d been drinking. It was different to the smell of his vomit when he came back from Niall's after an indecently large meal and different to his watery grief vomit that happened just that one time when his lowlife ex-boyfriend showed up looking for him. Harry remembers sending that asshole away with a nice little promise that just happened to sound a lot like a thinly veiled threat…_

*-*-*-*-*

_  
"Lou was right," Harry told him, gritting his teeth, "you could be in movies."_

_The sadistic ex grinned at him._

_"So you wouldn't want your face messed up, would you? Louis probably wouldn't do it. He’s not as aggressive as he thinks.  But we're kind of a package deal these days and I'm not that soft. At least not when it comes to people who think they can hurt him and then get away with it. Comprende?"_

*-*-*-*-* _  
  
_ Louis' ex never bothered them again and Harry was rewarded when Louis demanded that they go shopping to celebrate. Harry’s not really that kind of gay. He doesn't find himself fantasising about the perfect outfit or second guessing his choices. He likes to look good, don’t get him wrong and he does have a specific taste but he's no fashionista. Not like Louis. Louis disagrees, often deeming him the "experimentalist" of their friend group, as if that didn’t have obvious sexual connotations but Harry just wears things that make him feel good, regardless of their designated gender.

Louis on the other hand, he's kind of an enigma to watch. Harry feels like  he’s definitely watching an artist at work whenever Louis wanders into a new shop, foraging through racks upon racks to find the tightest possible trousers in the brightest possible colour. Maybe it's just that Louis can work everything from a backwards Snapback and one of Harry's hoodies, (that hang past down Louis’ knees like a dress) to a fitted shirt and braces, hair all done up in a smooth cinnamon swirl. But Harry's a simple man, so it's not this which he enjoys most about their shopping trips.

It's the socially acceptable perving. Because Louis always wants to know how his arse looks in his trousers. " _Haz, is my bum too big?  I think I should get a size smaller, don’t you? I look like a whale_." Harry is always quick to assure him that anything less than skin tight is a crime while carefully crossing his legs and avoiding the urge he has to blurt out the truth. The truth being that Louis’ arse is all he can think about when he jerks off. Then Louis wants to know if he should undo another button, " _more skin Harold, are you sure? Because I don't have pretty nipples like you. What if he thinks I'm trying too hard?_ "

Choosing date outfits is a specific kind of torture but Louis never seems to spend anything more than a night with anyone anyway. Harry knows it’s part of his whole act, trying to pretend he's some kind of heartbreaker when he's obviously sweeter than pie. Harry knows that one day he’ll trust someone else enough to show them his softer side and then Harry will be left to pick up the pieces of his own shattered heart. He knows he can't keep Louis in his dorm forever. But for now he has these shopping trips where he's asked to button Louis' shirts and pull them off his head when he gets himself stuck. Anything that gets Harry closer to a glowing, shirtless Louis is time well spent. Perhaps sometimes Harry fetches him a size too small on purpose, sue him.  
  
The truth is that Harry knows Louis in a way other people don’t. He knows all his different kinds of vomit, his different kinds of drunk and how each minute change in his eyebrows constitutes a different emotion or attitude. That night he knew that he could say just about anything to him and Louis would have forgotten it completely by morning.

*-*-*-*-* _  
  
"Sometimes I think about kissing you for hours," Harry revealed, making an indent in Louis' waist with his thumb, "that's how pretty you are. Sometimes it's all I think about. Do you kiss soft and slow or are you demanding, taking what you need in droves? Is it warm and sticky or is it like--"  
  
Harry gasped as Louis' fingers pried his head away from his shoulder. Then he hauled Harry into him like he was suffocating, like Harry was the oxygen mask and he couldn’t breathe him in fast enough. Harry stumbled over himself to get to him while Louis' mouth made this sighing-type noise like Taylor Swift in ‘Wildest Dreams’. A blissful kind of ‘uh-ahhh’ that completely screwed with Harry’s stomach. For a moment Louis' eyes looked absurdly clear and Harry could have even sworn that there was something sharp in them when he pushed up onto his toes. Harry clasped his waist, holding on for dear life but just before their lips met, Louis' foot slipped out from under him and he went tumbling to the floor._

_Harry carried him all the way home, cursing himself for almost letting a meaningless, drunken kiss happen when all it would have meant was that Louis found him slightly more attractive after one too many jelly shots. And all because he worried it was the only chance he'd ever get to kiss him._

_The next day, Louis woke up in the bathroom with Harry stroking his hair and the aftertaste of vomit in his mouth. He looked around fearfully and his hand shook as he gripped Harry's thigh to sit up. For a heart stopping moment Harry thought he was about to ask about their almost kiss._ _  
  
"Babe, what the fuck happened to my ankle last night?"_

*-*-*-*-*  
  
Louis never remembered and Harry sometimes still wonders whether he’s painfully relieved or painfully frustrated. Sure he could still run the gauntlet and tell Louis how he feels. He could risk everything they have for a shot at something more, for a chance that he might wake up with Louis' hair filling his nostrils every day for the rest of his life. But Harry's always been the weak one. Louis might be the softie and he might even be smaller than Harry was _before_ his growth spurt but he's still got one hell of a fearless heart. Fearless because he's kind of like a truth bomb. Not to mention unapologetically spastic.

Harry has no doubt that Louis puts on a show for the rest of the world, trying to protect himself from everything that goes along with being _that_ kind of gay guy. The kind with a limp wrist who likes to Perform. He also has no doubt that it's a similar form of fear inhibiting him whenever he refuses to talk about his dad or pretends that he won't miss the boys over the holidays. (They themselves enjoy their own unique co-Christmas, dubbed The Tomlinson-Styles Yearly Festive. Harry’s still got a screenshot of what Louis had written in their group message that first year. _Mum, can Anne and Harry come to ours for Christmas? As I might miss him if they don’t._  Harry usually spends the day in a fanciful tizzy imagining that the only difference between this and what their future could be like is the lack of babies belonging to the two of them. Or perhaps a wedding ring or two.)   

Louis is unquestionably brave. He came out to his high school with a megaphone and then lit his football jersey on fire just to demonstrate that he wouldn't change for anyone. No matter what it cost him. His teammates were so in awe of him that they begged him to stay. Harry loves hearing the story but mostly he just enjoys watching Louis while he tells it. His eyelashes always fall to brush his cheeks and his teeth gently caress the insides of his lips like he's trying to reign in his pride. Because when it’s something that really matters he's never the one to volunteer himself as the hero or to toot his own horn. Harry doesn’t mind all that much, so long as he gets to toot it for him. He particularly adores the way Louis looks at him after he’s finished singing his praises. As if nothing can compare to how weak he is for Harry's approval.

Louis worked his impressive butt off to become the only person ever to make captain of the football team in just their first year. He’s also done everything from bungee jumping to sky diving, Liam always at his side. Harry has no doubt that they’re already planning their next adventure together and he’s been wondering if he might need to invest in an oxygen tank before they go. Is this what wives feel like when their husbands leave for war? Perhaps Harry’s just become a bit more of a drama queen since he met Louis.

When Jay gave birth to the second set of twins, Louis was right there holding her hand and coaching her through it even though he knew nothing about Lamaze. Dan's plane from New York had been delayed and Louis dutifully stepped in to take his place. He cried when they were born, just as Dan would have. Then he spent the rest of the day being obnoxious as all hell, letting everybody in the hospital know that his baby siblings were the cutest babies in the whole nursery. Harry spent the day trailing after him with heart shaped eyes.

He's definitely ballsy and brave, and in ways that Harry’s not. Thus, Harry's never spoken to him about that night or about his real feelings. Not when Louis was awake anyway.  
  
Somehow, Louis just kind of made a home for himself in Harry’s life. As if he'd always belonged there and had only ever been waiting for the right time to inform Harry of this fact. He also _literally_ made Harry's dorm his home. Harry has yet to stop finding empty crisp packets under their cushions or old smelly socks under his bed. It doesn’t make much sense because Louis hates wearing socks but then Harry does demand that he wear them in his bed so there's that.

Their cupboard is overflowing with junk food that Harry doesn't eat but that still seems to be weekly restocked for Louis' convenience. Harry suspects that Zayn buys it all on the condition that he be allowed to plough through half of it whenever the munchies arise. Which is another thing. Louis has his own bong stationed in Zayn's room. It's pink and glittery and when Harry first questioned him about it, Louis claimed that he picked it to match his dildo. Harry choked on his own tongue and glared at Zayn whose rude snickering was far from subtle. But the bong is becoming more and redundant the longer Louis spends around Harry.

At first Harry had declined to comment, not wanting to force his opinions on his new friend who was clearly opinionated enough for the both of them. But after a while it occurred to him that Louis knew that he didn't like it, he just didn't know why.

*-*-*-*-*  
  
" _It's natural yeah?" Louis nodded, eyeing him like he might have just smoked some himself. Probably because he randomly brought it up in the middle of a discussion about song writing. "But so are fruits and vegetables, stuff that's actually good for you. No side effects. No deteriorating brain tissue. No accidentally "wigging out_.""  
  
_Louis gave him a disparaging look._  
  
_"Obviously Harold but most people aren’t interested in smoking their leafy greens."  
_  
_Harry just rolled his eyes at him and ploughed ahead_.  
  
" _It’s not that I think it should be outlawed. Medical marijuana helps people and it's not like cigarettes with all that toxic shit added in that fucks you over from the very beginning. Maybe the side effects really are worth the high. Especially if it makes you feel as good as you say. But there are people who smoke up and then there are pot smokers. I just don't think that you're a pot smoker babe. I don't think you're the kind of person who needs the extra high. Plus, why would you want to be cloudy and hazed like everybody else when you can be sharp and brilliant like you_?"  
  
_Louis rolled his eyes but there was a sneaky crinkle up by his eye and Harry recognised that tight lipped smile creeping in_.  
  
" _Haz, that sounded like a huge pile of steaming horse poo and I think you definitely demolished half my bad boy cred with that one character review. But thanks, I think you complimented me in there somewhere_."  
  
" _And you'll think about it_?"  
  
_Louis climbed into his lap and shoved his freezing hands up inside Harry's jumper, warming them on his bare skin. Harry gasped at his icy touch_.  
  
" _If it makes you happy, sure. I kind of got over it after the first few times anyway. Just think Zayn'll be lonely is all_."  
  
" _I heard that you fucker. As if I welcome you stealing my pot and writing DJ Malik all over my head shots_."  
  
_They shared a grin._  
  
" _Well..." Harry called out,_ " _at least now they have character_."  
  
_Louis snickered and they shared a high five, grinning at the delightful sound of Zayn throwing things at his door._

*-*-*-*-*  
  
So Louis had systematically started cutting down and now he only smokes when he’s feeling _really_ shitty. Like when his dad wrote him a letter saying that if things had been different then they could have been a family. It took Harry a long time to get Louis to open up about it and tell him what was wrong. When he finally succeeded, Louis launched into a tirade, striding about their dorm room with an angry hand fluttering by his side and his pretty blue eyes opening up wide with rage. The only clue that it might be something more than anger were the pained tension lines around his temple.

*-*-*-*-*  
  
_"I just don't fucking get it Haz. He can't just say ‘if things were different.’ That's not fair, that's a copout. It's not like things were easy for mum either." Harry nods because he knows how much shit Jay went through when Louis was a kid and how hard she worked to raise such a beautiful, loving boy. Harry once thanked her for giving him Louis and she cried into his shoulder. "....I mean she had me, this stupid ass kid who didn't know how to dress himself, let alone take care of his own needs. She had to go out every day and work herself to the bone while Mrs Ursula, the horrible smelling cat lady from down the street, babysat her son. She missed Parent Day and my first school production, all because she was working her butt off to earn a living. And I was this little shit who hated her for it and couldn't understand why. I blamed her for the fact that I was lonely and I resented her for never talking about him. She had the hardest fucking life Harry and he didn't pay her a cent. He left her this house that she couldn't afford and a dog that we had to give up and fucked right off to god knows where._

 _“And now he wants to try and tell me ‘if circumstances were different.’ Well that's not how it works. You don't get to choose your kid and you don't get to pick whether it's going to be easy, medium or hard. Sometimes it's hard as shit but you have to do it anyway because it's your kid and they need you. Maybe you do have to give them up because you can't give them the kind of life they deserve but you try first. Surely you try? If you choose to bring their life into this world, you're choosing to give up part of yours. And if it were my kid…I mean if I had this tiny little life in my hands who was depending on me to show him the way, I'd give that little boy my everything. I can't imagine having so little love for your son. Like fuck, why is he still making excuses? As though it wasn't a choice he made. Almost like he wants me to know that just because he has his own family now, it doesn't mean that he wants anything to do with ours. Nothing has changed. We're still the old, broken one and they'll always be his shiny, new one_."  
  
" _He's such a fucking arse, Lou. You and Jay deserve so much better, you always have. I know you don't think I know what you're thinking but babe, I really can read your mind sometimes. And guess what? He's not the winner here_."  
  
_Louis looked at him with desperate tears lining the bottoms of his eyes_.  
  
" _So why does he get to be happy Haz?"_  
  
_Louis launched himself at Harry and Harry gathered him close, pressing kisses to his hair while he stroked his back. Louis' sniffles soon turned to quiet tears that leaked out onto Harry’s shirt. Harry could hear him humming ‘Saving All My Love For You’ under his breath. Louis told him it was something his mum had taught him when he was little. Whenever he was in pain, he’d always focus on something outward instead of inward. To this day, whenever he gets injured in footie or something gets to him just that little bit too much, he still concentrates on singing Whitney and blocking out the rest.  
_  
" _Babe, you are the oddest, loudest, best looking, most lovable human being a pair of parents could have asked for. But you didn't get that kind of deal. You got one amazing parent and a hell of a step dad down the track. Your dad might be happy, which is more than he deserves because he's a fucking twit for leaving someone as perfect as you. He might even be happier than you and Jay from time to time but he doesn't know how much he missed. How much he's still missing. He's empty in a way that you aren't. Cause you have so much love in your life babe and you know it. You'll never desert your kid or wreck his self-esteem by abandoning him. You'll always be grateful to your mum and you'll never have to wonder what if? You win, okay Lou? You win_."

_Louis eventually stopped crying and raised his head, looking up at Harry with blotchy pink cheeks and red rimmed eyes. It was simultaneously awful and endearing. He smelled of roses and shampoo, of something that made Harry feel fuzzy right down to his toes and tingly in the tips of his fingers. Harry very much wanted to kiss him but Louis clearly wasn't feeling it. He seemed shame faced and embarrassed by the whole thing and disappeared into Zayn's room, not emerging for four long hours. When he crawled into bed with Harry that night, Harry could smell the weed on him. But he understood. There were days when Whitney just wasn’t enough._

*-*-*-*-*  
  
Did Harry mention that Louis is always around? Or that he absolutely _loves_ it? His unique smell is on Harry's sheets 24/7. Sometimes Louis surprises him by not staying over, probably in some attempt at convincing himself of his own independence, and Harry falls asleep breathing him in on the sheets. He also has a section in his wardrobe that he doesn't touch anymore because of that one time he tried rearranging things and Louis cracked it. Harry’s floor ended up covered in every single thing he owns because Louis couldn't find his singlet.

Louis has his own bright red toothbrush in the shower, his own sweet smelling body wash and his own can of shaving cream. Harry sometimes like to hide the shaving cream when he’s feeling particularly attached to Louis’ beard. It’s with Louis’ (mostly) best interests at heart. Mind you, sometimes Harry’s too busy jerking off to the thought of beard burn between his thighs to remember to do it. _Oh the irony._

Louis also has a whole shelf dedicated to the wide range of hair products he uses whenever they go out. In other words whatever he needs to make Harry's stomach do that weird flip-flop whenever he pads into Harry's room wearing just a pair of tight trousers with his hair all rolled up on top of his head. Harry loves combing his fingers through it at the end of the night, secretly enjoying it when he hits a knot and Louis' button nose wrinkles up with displeasure. It's why he hates it so much when Louis goes home with another guy. He’s forced to imagine somebody else's fingers loosening Louis’ hair or smoothing over his skin. Hands that don’t belong to him sliding inside Louis’ tight heat and a pair of foreign lips swallowing Louis’ dick and tugging at his slim mouth.  
  
It's simply not fair that whenever Louis jumps up onto the table at a party, swinging his hips and gyrating to the beat, his eyes fall to Harry.  It’s not fair because Harry's cock is almost just as disappointed as his heart whenever some hunky guy comes along and inevitably offers to lower him down to the ground, leading him out to the dance floor with their hands glued to his waist. Harry's quite possessive of that one particular spot on his waist. Perhaps because his hands fit there better than anybody else's. Louis told him so. Harry just wonders if Louis’ sexual partners ask him to explain that one tattoo. He wonders whether Louis stops to tell them about him or whether he rushes to finish them off.  
  
Louis has a specific chair in their kitchen (next to Harry's) and in their living room (Harry's lap) and Harry even buys Louis the really expensive toilet paper because Louis complained once that the cheaper one lead to chafing. Harry couldn't stand the thought of an arse like Louis' being rubbed raw. Not by toilet paper anyway. That derrière is more precious to him than his guitar. Speaking of, Harry houses a Louis sized guitar in his room and a notebook of lyrics that Louis adds to whenever he's over. Harry got sick of him turning his room upside down looking for paper.

Louis usually walks around their dorm room in bare feet and one of Harry’s jumpers. They always hang down over his short briefs and clothe his tiny hands in material. It’s equal parts adorable and sexy. Then sometimes he turns up at the door wrapped in his doona, opening it up like it's a trench coat and he's here to show Harry a good time. He’s always shirtless underneath and clad in only his underwear. It’s enough to drive Harry mad, or at the very least send him hurtling toward the bathroom to take care of the pressing situation in his pants. Louis always welcomes Harry into this bizarre blanket burrito and wraps himself around him, immediately demanding that Harry donate the hoodie he's wearing. Harry complies every time.  
  
Louis leaves biscuit crumbs on the couch and burns his toast whenever he wakes up before Harry. His feet make the loudest slapping sounds Harry's ever heard and he's got it in his head that if he doesn't flip the channel a million times in one sitting, he might die. Harry often screeches at him for not doing his dishes and cracks it at him for trying to climb all over him while he's writing. He's honestly the worst (non) roommate Harry's ever had; taking naps in Harry's bed between classes and always leaving it in complete disarray. He never cleans up after himself and he _always_ uses up all the hot water. _“If I don't sing Whitney's entire discography then what is the point Harold_?" Harry still wouldn't want to live with anyone else. Except maybe Zayn. Because he's pretty chill and well, he already does. Yet even Zayn tends to turn blurry at the edges, his voice becoming this weird distant hum whenever Louis is around.  
  
Fact of the matter is that when Harry misses Louis he eats a whole packet of biscuits without a plate and then scrapes them off of his lap onto the couch. He _loves_ swooping into the kitchen to save the day in the mornings, teasing Louis as he whips up something edible for them both, secretly hoping he can woo Louis with his domestic prowess. He especially loves that Louis is hopeless when it comes to learning how to cook. Every time he presses up behind him and tries to illustrate some basic technique, he knows that he'll get to do it again the next day and most probably the day after that. _Any_ excuse to be close.

Louis' feet are loud but they're also bite sized and extremely ticklish. Plus Louis squeaks when Harry touches his toes. Like a pretty little blue eyed mouse. With one hell of a bite, that is. The channel surfing is frustrating but understandable because after Harry shouted at him, Louis confessed that Jay couldn't afford a TV after Mark left. Somehow Harry couldn’t find it in himself to yell at him after that. Especially because of how Louis is; sticking his tongue out and crossing his legs, pressing down on the buttons harder than he needs too and flapping his knees like he’s a bird about to take off. Sometimes Harry's heart feels like it might take off too.

Harry doesn't even mind doing the dishes or cleaning up after Louis because even when the frustration sets in, Louis’ always there to make him laugh and remind him why he's so awfully in love with him. Yes he tends to prove the most irritable distraction and whenever he makes the bed, it always winds up looking worse than before but it's all part of his charm, sad as it sounds. Harry will take the freezing cold shower every day in return for that husky rendition of “I Have Nothing.” And he frequently does, sometimes just lying there in bed listening to Louis' sultry voice as it echoes around the dorm room. He doesn't even picture him naked. That's how incredible Louis' voice is. It moves Harry deep inside and always gives him goose bumps. It makes him want to do the dirtiest things, like come all over Louis' pointed cheekbones while he sings out Mariah. Sometimes he just wants to shout at Louis because he has no idea how good he is, how he could enchant a whole room full of people with it if he tried. Probably even if he didn’t.

*-*-*-*-*  
  
"Do you remember the first time I came to your dorm? I don't think I've been back since," Harry whispers into the quiet of the room, stroking Louis' hair where it falls across his thighs.

It was the third day after they met. They'd pretty much spent every waking minute together and Harry had begun to think that Louis might just be some kind of stray. He’d have to be the best dressed, nicest smelling stray that Harry had ever encountered but you really couldn't be too careful. Or at least that's what Gemma was always telling him…

*-*-*-*-* _  
_  
" _So um, do you actually have a place to live? Because you haven't been home since I met you and I'm starting to get concerned_."  
  
_"Harold I'm touched," Louis winked at him, "but I really do have my own dorm. I even have my own bed, would you believe it? Aaaaand a living, breathing roommate. I just happen to like you and yours better.” Louis paused. “That's not true, I love Niall. But he doesn't have a huge pot stash and he's about half as gorgeous as you and Zayn."  
  
Harry furrowed his brow.  
  
"That's not very nice Lou."  
  
They'd quickly cottoned on to nicknames. Harry had tried correcting Louis about his own name but he’d been unsuccessful thus far. Apparently Louis' will was a lot stronger than his own. Besides that, Louis had this way of dragging out the 'a' sound whenever he was mocking him. Harry would never admit it but he kind of liked it.  
  
"Irish doesn't mind, we have a deal."  
_  
_Harry was sceptical.  
  
_ " _What kind of deal?_ "  
  
" _He lets me mock him all day every day and I show him mercy by not punching him in the dick every time I see him._ "  
  
" _I had no idea you were so generous_ _Lou._ "  
  
_Louis just smirked and then slipped out the door. Harry was helpless not to follow.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
Harry’s eyes fell to follow the bounce of Louis' arse as he led Harry down the hall. He’d never met any boys with arses like Louis’. Arses made to be worshipped between the sheets. He’d already started picturing Louis’ bum whenever he was in the shower. A smooth olive curve that he could really sink his teeth into. It was almost impossible not to look whenever Louis turned his back. This time when Louis turned to answer him, his eyes fell to meet Harry's and his mouth twitched like maybe he knew. Harry's cheeks were flaming.  
  
"To my dorm, Curly. Can't have you thinking I'm homeless now can I?"  
  
When they got to Louis' room, Louis pushed him onto the couch with a hard shove and then straddled his waist. Harry's heart was in his throat, his cock quickly fattening up in his trousers. He feared Louis would feel it twitch.  
  
"W-what are you doing?"  
  
"Shhhh babe, you'll ruin it."  
  
Harry raised a curious eyebrow but Louis just placed his hands either side of his head and then buried his head in the side of Harry’s neck.  
  
_ " _Grab my arse," he whispered._ _  
  
"What?" Harry squeaked.  
  
"Just do it," Louis hissed.  
  
Harry tried rolling his eyes. Like it was a hassle and not the best thing to happen to him since he met this stubbornly loud northerner two days ago. He wondered at Louis' intentions though. Was this the start of their epic romance? But no, he told himself, this was just Louis teasing him for looking at his arse on the way here.  
  
Harry gently settled his fingers over Louis' bum and almost sighed as he felt it fill his hands. It pressed eagerly into them like it was made for his groping.  
  
"You can do better than that Harold." Louis’ voice was sultry. "If I ask you to feel me up, you might as well make the most of it."  
  
Harry's breathing was getting pretty erratic by that point but he didn't hesitate to squeeze Louis' arse in his hands, feeling it push back into them with the give of a well-cooked cake. It turned Harry on like wildfire.  
  
"Much better," Louis sighed just as a key started to rattle in the lock. "Now just go with me on this."  
  
The door flew open just as Louis' mouth latched on to the side of his neck. Harry really couldn't process the wide eyed blonde standing in the doorway gaping at them. Not when he could feel the light scrape of Louis' teeth on his pulse point and the slickness of his tongue swiping over his jugular.  
  
"What the fuck Tommo?"  
  
Harry's hands fell away from Louis' perfect bubble butt because he knew that the dyed blonde had to be Niall, the roommate Louis liked to jerk around for no good reason. He was cute if you asked Harry. Not that Louis would. Harry had tried to talking to him earlier, trying to find out if any of the new students had caught his eye and if so, who. He’d crossed his fingers inside his pocket the whole time, hoping for Louis to say his name but Louis just started throwing peanuts at his face while he yelled at him to open up. Eventually Harry complied and forgot all about his question.  
  
"Hello Nialler, welcome home. This here is my new sub Henry. I'm going to fuck him until he cries and then send him on his merry way so if you could just...." Louis jerked his head in the direction of one of the rooms, "we'd really appreciate it."  
  
Harry was not so amused. It's hard to find practical jokes funny when you've got a raging hard on and feel utterly disappointed that your friend won’t fuck you until you cry. So Harry did what any sane man would do, he picked Louis up off his waist and deposited him down onto the cushions. Then he slapped his arse.  
  
"Actually, I thought we could change it up. Maybe I could fuck you...daddy?"_

 _Harry waggled his eyebrows._ _  
  
Louis’ pupils swallowed up his irises and his jaw looked like it might actually detach from the rest of his face. There was a hint of approval in the upward tilt of his brow. Almost like he didn't know Harry had it in him but was supremely glad that he did. Harry felt pleasantly chuffed. Louis' eyes stuck to him for a moment and then trailed behind him to Niall.  
_  
" _So how was your day? Me and Harry are going to go bowling later, wanna join_?"  
  
_He spoke as if this was a regular thing. It probably was. Harry already knew enough about Louis' "charm" to know that part of it was how unpredictably insane he could be. Not to mention hilariously crass.  
_  
_“It was great until you showed up here with your...whatever. And like where the fuck have you been the past few days? I get a text that says "I've gone rogue" and then you're MIA for 48 hours. What is this…some kind of secret sex mission? And who the fuck is Harry?!"  
  
Harry giggled. Whoops. But it was all so exciting for him. He'd never met someone like Louis before and if he had, they'd never felt about him the way Louis seemed to. Louis actually thought he was cool and that he "oozed effortless charm." Since when?  Harry hadn't really been unlucky when it came to getting inside other people’s trousers but he’d never been a hit when it came to long term relationships. Apparently most people didn't have the time to wait for him to get his words out. "I mean c'mon Harry, what is it going to be like if we get married? We're going to be up at the altar with 200 plus people watching and it's going to take you a million years to read your vows. And then you'll get all embarrassed and blushy and I'll have to apologise to the guests on behalf of my mentally incapacitated fiancé." In Harry's opinion, that was more than harsh. Besides, he didn't want to get married in front of that many people. Not even close. And he definitely didn't want to get married in some stuffy church to some dropkick who just wanted to get it over with as fast as possible.  
  
Harry turned around and stuck his hand out, his stomach heaving a little at the look on Niall’s face. He clearly did not appreciate the giggle at his expense.  
_  
" _Hi mate, I'm Harry. I'm not fucking Louis or vice versa. And he sounds like a pretty shit roommate if you ask me_."  
  
" _Hey!_ "  
  
_They both ignored Louis as Niall wrenched him into a bro hug and they slapped each other's backs_.  
  
" _The shittest, honestly. He eats nine times a day_."  
  
_Louis snorted and came to wrap an arm around Harry's waist. He had to push up on his toes just to tuck his head over the top of Harry’s shoulder. Harry's insides felt warm.  
_  
" _Niall_ , _you eat_ _sixteen times a day and don't forget that I'm your captain. If you want to play this week, you’ll shut your mouth right now Whore-y Horan_. "  
  
_Harry chuckled and then reached back to pinch Louis' hip, making him squeak. It was a pretty sound. Harry wanted to keep drawing it out of him._  
  
" _What was that Harold_?"  
  
" _Don't talk smack to Niall, he was clearly worried about you._ _He probably thought you’d been abducted out there on your own_."  
  
_Louis glared at him, ferocious pinprick pupils standing out in the sparkly sea of blue that surrounded them.  
_  
" _Fuck of--"_  
  
" _Louis? Abducted_?" _Niall sputtered through his laughter_. " _Yeah sure_ , _he'd bite their fingers off before he’d let anyone snatch him away_."  
  
" _That's true_ ," _Louis mused, tone thoughtful_.  
  
_Harry reached back and buried a hand in the coarsest part of his hair.  
  
_ " _Good to know_."  
  
_Louis' arm was still wrapped around his waist and he squeezed, looking up at Harry with the sweetest form of smile in his eyes.  
_  
" _Jesus Christ. Are you sure you're not fucking_?"  
  
_Harry and Louis both shoved Niall onto the couch and then slapped him around the head until he caved and scurried off to his room._  
  
" _That was nice teamwork, that_."  
  
" _Yeah_ ," _Harry agreed_ , " _but I think maybe you're a bad influence_."  
  
" _Oh definitely," Louis nodded sagely_ , " _but your uni experience will be ten times more fun with me than without. I don’t do small talk, I wil **l** make you laugh when you shouldn’t and when you stare at my arse, I'll pretend I don't see you_."  
  
" _Sounds like a pretty sweet deal_ ," _Harry concluded, lips turning up at the corners._  
  
_They didn't end up going bowling. Louis mightn’t have had an off switch but he did fall asleep on Harry's chest halfway through The Bodyguard (thanks to Harry’s gentle hair playing.) He looked picturesque in his sleep, like someone had come and stripped away all the bravado to reveal the elfin prince beneath. His heart was showing. In sleep, his jaw didn't look as sharp, the lines of his face nowhere near as jagged and he kept pursing his mouth tight and rubbing his head against Harry's pec._

*-*-*-*-*  
  
"You reminded me of Dusty," Harry tells him. "You kept clinging to my shirt and pushing on my chest like kittens do when they try to get comfortable. It was the first time you'd fallen asleep before me and the first time I got to see you with all your defences down. I wanted to lie in that room with you forever. Nothing had ever felt as right as holding you and sometimes I’m afraid that nothing else ever will.  But I'm so proud of how far you've come. Not just in showing me who you are underneath but in showing everybody else. I know it still makes you antsy and uncomfortable but you're learning that it doesn't have to be a death sentence."

*-*-*-*-*

 _Harry only took the smallest amount of pleasure in interrupting Louis' shower, pointedly ignoring anything below his shoulders as he shoved the crumpled form in his face_.  
  
" _Louis William Tomlinson_."  
  
" _You know it doesn't scare me when you say my name like that? For one thing, you're not my mother. Thank god for that. And for another, babe your voice isn’t that scary. You really can't hope to do anything apart from get people hot when you yell at them_."  
  
_Harry's eyes widened_.  
  
" _I'm making you hot_?"  
  
" _No_ ," _Louis snorted but the eye roll was exaggerated and he looked a little tense around the eyes_ , " _I'm just letting you know that should you ever take on the strenuous task of disciplining me, you might want to learn how to say things with a little more conviction. I know my nakedness is distracting but..._."  
  
" _I'm not distracted_."  
  
_Louis arched his eyebrows and then grabbed Harry's hand, running it down his dripping, muscled torso like he’d secretly been plotting Harry’s destruction_ _all this time._

  
" _That doesn't_ _distract you at all? Shit Harold, are you sure you’re really gay?_ "  
  
_Harry knew exactly what he was doing, mind you. It was a bit like reverse psychology. He thought that by coming out and saying that he was distracting Harry, he could convince Harry of the fact himself. Not this time. Yes, Harry’s cock was at half-mast and yes, Louis' abdominals felt like they'd been chiselled out of stone but Harry wouldn’t be swayed. He was a man on a mission and he wouldn't fall prey to Louis' mind games. Or his fuckable body.  
_  
" _Stop it_ ," _Harry ordered as Louis stepped out of the shower, taking his time in wrapping Harry’s towel around his waist_. " _I'm serious this time Louis. Every time I want to talk about something real, you scamper off back to Niall's like it's not totally obvious you're running away from me_."  
  
" _In case you had forgotten…Niall's, as you call it, is my dorm too. And he's a hell of a lot nicer than you when I'm in a shit mood_."  
  
" _That's not true and you know it. He just won't push you like I do. He does whatever you want instead of what's best for you_."  
  
_Louis rolled his eyes and pushed Harry's hip so he could move around him into his room_.  
  
" _Oh fuck off Harry, you're not my mum. Just because you speak to her every night and like, text her live updates at my games, it doesn't mean you're qualified to take over her job_. _It just makes you some kind of weird fangirl!_ "  
  
_Harry wasn’t offended. He knew how lost Louis would be without his personal cheerleader._

 _Louis disappeared into his wardrobe but the light outside of it was enough that Harry could see the outline of his figure as he dropped his towel. He could see the full curves of his hips, the rounded shape of his arse and even the dimples at the base of his spine. Louis had only gotten fitter over the past year and Harry felt like he had a permanent boner_.  
  
" _Look, can we please just talk about this? Why did you fill it out just to throw it in the bin afterwards? You must have been thinking about it so what changed your mind_?"  
  
_Louis emerged in rolled up tracksuit pants and a hoodie that was stuck around his face. Harry disguised a laugh as a cough and then went to pull it down for him. Louis glared daggers at him anyway_.  
  
" _Because they're not ready. There's no point in submitting unfinished songs, now is there? Besides, it's not like it means anything. It's just some dumb uni comp and all the winner gets is like some tiny cheque and “bragging rights_.””  
  
_Harry pulled him down onto his bed and then into his lap. Louis fought him at first but then sighed, resting his weight on Harry's thighs as he fiddled with his wet fringe_.  
  
" _You know it's more than that Lou. It's validation. It's an assertion that your work means something and that you have what it takes to make it in this business. Even if you don't win, you'll still get feedback. Don't you want to get better? Don't you want to put your music out into the world and see where it could take you? Don’t you want to know what people think of it_?"  
  
" _No_ ," _Louis grumbled, smoothing his thumbs across Harry's collar bones_.  
  
_He was a little shit. He knew how much that relaxed Harry. Harry didn't stop him but he wouldn't give in to his tactics either_.  
  
" _Yes you do. And you always say they're not finished, that they're not ready. Let me ask you something. Is it that the songs aren't ready or that you aren't_?"  
  
_Louis violently pushed up off Harry’s chest, jumping up and storming into the living area where he collapsed upon the couch, holding up the universal sign for up yours. Harry just followed him, sitting down beside him and rearranging his feet so that they sat in his lap. He tenderly rubbed over them as he spoke_.  
  
" _I'm not saying you're scared. I know how you feel about that_ ," _Louis grunted_. " _But I would understand if you were. It's terrifying to think that maybe you won't be as good as you thought, that maybe you'll have to set new goals or work harder to get where you want to be. Maybe it won't be the way you imagined when you were little and maybe you won’t write the biggest song of the decade but Louis, your songs are good. Better than good, they're amazing. I'm so honoured you showed me and I've not felt the same about music since. You inspired me to write more and to feel the music the way you do. With your whole soul_."  
  
" _I hate it when you get all ‘inspired’ and motivational. This isn't some cheesy lifetime movie, this is real life. What if I...._ " _Louis' eyes moved from the ceiling to Harry's face_. " _Hazza, what if they tell me I'm shit_?"  
  
" _They won't_ ," _Harry said assuredly_ , " _but even if they do, you'll still make it. Because you're Louis Tomlinson. You could do anything you wanted, be Posh OR Becks. You've got a lovely voice Louis, the best I've heard in a long time and you could really do something with it. If people don't believe the words on paper, they'll believe them when they hear you sing._ "  
  
_Louis took a deep breath_.  
  
_"I'll make you a deal_."  
  
" _Oh shit—ouch_ , _really Louis?_ "  
  
" _Shut up. The deal is...I will if you will_."  
  
_Harry leaned back_.  
  
" _What?_ "  
  
" _Don't forget I've seen your work too mister. You're no Louis Tomlinson_ ," _Louis crawled back into his lap, winking to show him he was absolutely joking. Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around him._ " _But you'll do in a pinch. You do feel songs like I do. Some of your songs....I feel like I've lived them_."  
  
_That's because you have, Harry thought to himself.  
  
_ " _And it's not just that, it's the flow of it. It's almost…poetic, like you don't even think when you write. It just pours out of you like molten gold,” Louis’ expression froze in place. “Shit, can we rewind? That sounded a lot like something you would say. Get me a gun_ _now_."  
  
_Harry shook his head, exasperated and then leaned in to brush his lips against Louis' head_.  
  
" _Okay. I will if you will.”_  
  
" _Sing me something_?" _Louis pleaded, pout out in full force_.  
  
_He looked so pathetic with Harry's sleeves dwarfing his hands and his big blue eyes drooping down like that. Harry really didn’t stand a chance._  
  
" _Fine,_ " _he agreed, retrieving his guitar_. " _This is a new one. It's called shattered_."  
  
  
_If love comes in waves,  
Then when will mine recede?  
You make me breathless,  
But I need you to breathe.  
  
You gift me my laughter,  
And inspire me, my song,  
You’re always my weakness,  
But you make me so strong.  
  
Ruined, ruined, I think you'll see.  
Shattered, shattered, you got lost in me.  
Cause I'm looking in your eyes and sometimes I feel,  
your love is like mine, two shades too real.  
  
Take me with you if ever you should go.  
I love you, I love you but you'll never know.  
  
If love is worth dying for,  
Then I guess I'm deceased,  
Maybe I'm your captive,  
And I won't be released.  
  
You gift me my laughter,  
And inspire me, my song,  
Please read me my palm,  
promise me we belong.  
  
Ruined, ruined, I think you'll see.  
Shattered, shattered, you got lost in me.  
Cause I'm looking in your eyes and sometimes I feel,  
your love is like mine, two shades too real.  
  
Take me with you if ever you should go.  
I'll love you, I'll love you, I won't let you go.  
  
If a man is his word then I'm dying to know,  
if you heard all of mine, would my agony show?  
  
Cause I'm shattered, shattered and you'll never see.  
I've been ruined and ruined, it's all up to me.  
But I'm looking in your eyes, I don't see a sign,  
Baby please show me if you want to be mine.  
  
Please take me with you but don't ever go.  
I love you enough to leave it alone.  
  
Oh I love you too much so I'll leave it alone.  
_  
" _Fuck Harry. That was the saddest sorriest excuse of a song I've ever heard_."  
  
_Harry's heart constricted painfully upon hearing that Louis hated his own song, the song that came to him in fragments and pieces as he watched the dress rehearsal of Peter Pan: The Musical. Louis played lead, of course. Harry had been there opening night, sitting front row with Zayn and Niall on either side of him. What a mistake that was. They kept leaning across him to flirt with each other like absolute fools. They still liked to pretend they were just two laddy lads. “Will Niall be there? Oh he will? I guess I’ll come like, cause he’s a bro.” “And to support Lou, yeah?” “Um, yeah. Love The Wiz.” “It’s Peter Pan: The Musical.” “Right, yeah.”_

_Liam was there too with wavy hair and his sun kissed skin. He’d just gotten back from another one of his surfing expeditions in Australia. He kept trying to tell them all about how someone had stolen his underwear while he was in the water, not that any of them were listening. Niall spared him an “oh no, Liam” and then went straight back to fawning over a thrilled and jittery Zayn. None of it mattered. Everything around Harry fell silent when that curtain came up and the lights went down. Everything but a melody that came from within, a melody he heard in his mind for days on end afterward. He eventually figured out that something about it was so… Louis. He knew he needed to write it into a song._

" _It's not finished yet_ _so_..."  
  
" _No, no babe. It's amazing. Beautiful, even. But it's so sad. Why are you so sad love? You write all these sappy love songs but so many of them are about getting your heart broken_."  
  
_Harry just shrugged and idly strummed his guitar, avoiding Louis' eyes_.  
  
" _Maybe I know what that’s like_."  
  
_Louis took his guitar from him and put it back. He pulled Harry onto the bed and squashed up behind him, firmly wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. Louis made the best little spoon but he didn’t like to admit it. Harry didn't mind really. While he enjoyed cuddling Louis into his chest and feeling as if he could protect him from the entire world, he sometimes liked it just as much like this. Every now and then he took pleasure in feeling like he was the precious, soft one. As if Louis cherished him just as much as he cherished Louis.  
_  
" _I can't imagine that anyone worth your time would break your heart Curly. But I'm not above punching their lights out if they do_. _Because you aren't just boyfriend material Haz, you're like the Whitney Houston of the dating world. There's no competition because you'll always be at the top_."  
  
_Harry didn't want Louis to see him getting all snively and emotional. As much as he always wanted to see more of Louis’ softer side, he’d taken to trying to tone down his own. It never worked well because Louis always caught him and immediately knocked down his walls. But this time they weren’t facing each other and Harry could get away with it.  
_  
" _Even if I get hooked on drugs and die before my time?_ "  
  
_Louis chuckled and kissed his neck. Except he kind of missed and got the edge of his earlobe. Harry couldn’t help giggling or folding in on himself like he’d been tickled._  
  
" _Even then yes,” Louis’ tone was fond, “but no dying before your time young Hazza. What will I do to survive if you're not here to cook for me?_ "  
  
" _You're right, how selfish of me. I promise that I will live to feed you another day, Your Highness._ "  
  
_Louis brushed his lips over Harry's neck, resulting in a delicate shiver_.  
  
" _I rue the day that I taught you how to deadpan_ , _Harry Styles._ "  
  
" _You did NOT teach me that. Before I lived with you, I lived with Gemma. Do you know what that's like?_ "  
  
" _Like living with a slightly less pretty version of me_?"  
  
" _I'll tell her you said that_."  
  
_Louis dug his fingers into Harry's side, making him gasp and squirm back against him_.  
  
" _Don't you dare, you curly headed traitor. You're my best friend!_ "  
  
" _And she's my sister!_ "  
  
" _Which is why I'm sure you'll agree that I'm the prettiest. It's nothing against her Haz. I would definitely tap that if I were into the whole female genitalia thing_."  
  
_Harry reached back and slapped his hip._  
  
" _Gross._ "  
  
" _Well you asked_."  
  
" _NO I DID NOT.”_  
  
" _Oh, really?_ ” _Harry could feel his smirk, “well I must have got my wires crossed then_. _Sorry love_."  
  
" _You really are the worst person I know_."  
  
_Louis' head nudged his shoulder and suddenly he was eye to eye with him. Their faces were close enough to kiss. Too close for Harry to avoid his periwinkle blue and the smell of lemon scented body wash on his skin._  
  
" _And the prettiest_?"  
  
_Harry sighed and then rubbed his head up against the side of Louis'. Louis was always telling him he should stop watching so many cat videos, something about becoming one himself._  
  
" _And the prettiest_."  
  
_Louis practically purred himself and then fell asleep with his head on Harry's shoulder. Once he was asleep Harry turned around and spooned him instead, tightening his arms when Louis squirmed a bit in his sleep. Harry listened to the sound of him breathing and wondered how anyone could be that easy to fall in love with. Over and over and over again._

*-*-*-*-*

"Do you remember the first time you met my family? Mum hated you, remember? Or maybe not but she didn't trust you. Probably because you'd taken her son hostage for like, six weeks," Harry chuckles, smiling fondly down at Louis' sleeping form. “But she was also weirdly aggravated when I told her we weren't dating. I guess she'd already fallen in love with you by then. But who could blame her? I just remember how Gems stole you away for hours and I had to come and retrieve you. I wanted to scream, "he’s mine! Mine!" The same way I used to when Gems and I fought over things as kids. Then I realised that you weren't mine, that you might never be mine. But I still had hope  she'd be your sister-in-law someday. I guess in that respect it was nice seeing you together, even if she was _completely_ monopolising _my_ guest."

*-*-*-*-*  
  
" _Gemma you can't just make him your new BFF!_ "  
  
_Louis looked up from the magazine they were both leaning over. They'd been dissing the entire thing for at least an hour, loudly complaining about how it was pure and unadulterated drivel, completely lacking in journalistic integrity. Gemma would know. She had a successful online blog and big dreams of building her own paper. One that would report on facts instead of trashy, tiresome rumours. Harry admired her for it and he could see that Louis did too. Probably because they were so similar, both carving out a path for themselves in places where one didn't exist._

_Louis refused to believe that instruments were going out of fashion and that the lyrics didn't matter. He said that just because a new era was upon us (the era of digitalised music), it didn’t mean that we had to forget the old one. Or any of the old ones. He spent a lot of time listening to the classics and his taste in music had a lot of influence on the way he crafted his own. He wasn’t afraid to bring back the sound of 80's pop for one track and then mix it up by delving into some classic rock for another. Harry only knew this because one time after Louis got stoned, he shared some of his backing tracks with Harry. He still wouldn't show Harry any lyrics (yet) or let Harry hear his voice but it was mesmerising enough just to listen to his music and try to understand the way his mind works. It reminded Harry a lot of the way Louis picks his clothes; a little bit scientific, a lot artistic and a similar experience to what it might have been like watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel. Louis was just a great person to sit back and admire. Harry knew this, he’d done his fair share of admiring._

_Harry was fascinated with the way Louis did just about anything. Like how he refused to eat cereal and drink tea at the same time. Or how he always ended his texts with spaced out exclamation marks and upside down smileys. Sometimes Harry felt like getting his songbook out and writing it all down. But he always figured that someone like Louis wasn't the kind of person you could easily describe. Not really. Harry could describe the way he felt about him but trying to describe Louis himself was like trying to put into words what makes a painting so beautiful. It’s not down to any of the individual components, per se but neither is it the sum of its parts. It’s located somewhere in between them, in the gaps between what you can see and what you can sense. It’s about what you feel when you’re looking into its depths, trying to discover its meaning.  Louis was like that for Harry; an abundant, unearthly kind of beauty that filled him up constantly. Yet with what, Harry could never say._ _  
  
Gemma and Louis had the same stubbornly independent streak. They also shared a tendency to act tough when they were hurting and to mock the world around them, even though you could be sure they loved all of it more than they hated it. They were destined to get along and Harry didn't have a problem with it. Except when he wanted to see his fit best friend sitting on **his** childhood bed instead_.  
  
" _Harold, is that a hint of jealousy I detect in your tone? Because you're obviously my number one. Gems is just a close second_."  
  
" _Ugh get out_." _Gemma shoved at Louis’ side_ , " _If you're going to be all gross and flirty with my little brother then I'm going to have to wait until he's not around to talk to you_."  
  
" _Okay_ ," _Louis jumped up, beaming_.  
  
_The lack of denial about flirting with him put the stars in Harry’s eyes. He held Louis' thighs as Louis scaled his body and then twisted back to look at his sister_.  
  
" _Gemma, you know that I'm going to be in your life for a very long time right?_ "  
  
_Gemma smirked down at the magazine. Harry got the feeling she knew something they didn’t_.  
  
" _Oh yes, I'm sure of that Louis.”_  
  
" _Good. Because you might have to get used to me being gross sometimes. Harold's very insecure and somebody has to compensate for him because he has a penis the size of a---"_  
  
_Harry clapped a hand over Louis’ mouth and carried him kicking and screaming to his room. Gemma's laughter and embarrassing shout of "please marry him H," trailed after them. Harry kicked the door shut and then threw Louis onto his bed, staring down at him with crossed arms_.  
  
" _Well. What do you have to say for yourself_?"  
  
_Louis took this opportunity to cross his legs and straighten his back, blinking up at Harry with an angelic smile_.  
  
" _Well Sir, I can't tell you why my dog ate my homework but I can tell you what it looked like when it came out the other end. It wasn’t pretty, let me tell you_."  
  
_It was useless. Harry's mouth twitched and Louis knew he'd won. He stopped paying attention to Harry and started looking around at all his stuff instead. He trailed his fingers over all the posters of Harry's musical idols, stopping at one of The Fray. His eyes flicked back to Harry.  
_  
" _You like them_?"  
  
_Harry nodded, watching Louis carefully as he raised a hand and smoothed it down over his chin_.  
  
" _You never told me_."  
  
_Harry's expression wrinkled with confusion_.  
  
" _I didn't know it was important_?"  
  
_Louis seemed to find that funny. He grinned as he continued his journey around Harry's room, trailing a finger along the spines of Harry's books and taking a moment to examine the photos of Harry and his friends from school_.  
  
" _It's not_ ," _he finally said, looking back over his shoulder_ , " _but it’s how I got in_."  
  
" _Got in where_?"  
  
" _University, obviously. My marks were awful in school and there was no way I was going to get in based on my credentials. I wasn't stupid but I didn't give a fuck about quadratic equations or the process of photosynthesis. I cared about music, drama and my team. That was it_."  
  
_Harry approached him, trapping Louis' hand where it cupped his snow glob_ e.

" _You've never said_."  
  
" _I've known you six weeks. Niall doesn't know shit. Far less than you_."  
  
" _Thank you_?"  
  
_Louis chuckled and twined his fingers with Harry's, using them to do a slow twirl. Then he guided Harry’s hand to his waist and cupped his shoulder in return. Suddenly they were dancing, or swaying at the very least. With no music, mind you. But there were all kinds of symphonies playing out in Harry’s head_.  
  
" _Anyway the careers advisor suggested I write a letter explaining my situation. That I just had specific study interests, that they only had to look at my results in music and drama to know that I had it in me to do well. But a letter? I think I spent a whole night trying to find the right words. I couldn't find them in the end. Because it didn't make sense to me. The only words I could craft were made for songs. Music. They didn't belong in a letter to some Dean trying to convince him or her that I was worthy of their consideration. I mean these people weren't going to give a shit about some kid with piss poor English skills and a record of doing everything he shouldn't_."  
  
_Harry was deeply hypnotised by his voice and perhaps his eyes too_.  
  
" _So what did you do_?"  
  
" _I decided to sing. In a video. Set up my camcorder on the piano at home and I played How To Save A Life. I wasn't even a particularly gifted piano player and my vocals have come miles since then but something about it, it must have flagged their interest. This guy who obviously didn't give a shit for their procedures. Maybe it was just my honesty, I'll never know. I guess that song I sang is sentimental to me now. Not a lot of things are," Louis’ smile was wry and Harry thought he might be lying, "but that song definitely is one of them_."  
  
_Harry pulled back to look at him, biting his lip_.  
   
" _Sing it for me_?"  
  
_Louis' eyes shifted nervously across his face, fingers twitching around Harry's shoulder. He looked like he was about to say a very firm no. Harry was pleasantly surprised when he opened his mouth and started to sing, burying his head in Harry’s shoulder and rocking them to the slow rhythm of his voice. It was the kind of moment you don’t think exists until you're living it._

_After that Louis started belting things out in the shower and he opened up to Harry in a way he hadn't before. He confessed that there was more to the song than he originally told Harry, that he used to listen it to it when he heard his parents fighting. He’d get scared and so he’d plug his headphones in and turn on that song. Always that song. Harry's throat had bobbed painfully and he tried hard not to let his pity show. It was more than pity anyway. He felt hurt for the innocent child who lay down in that bed not knowing what to do, wondering why this was happening to him and his family. It made sense to him then, why Louis' anger always seemed so superficial for everybody but his dad. He might have lived in an angry atmosphere when he was little but he clearly chose to be free of it now. Harry was insanely proud of him but awfully sad for what he'd been through. He couldn't help wishing he could have been there to hold Louis close and tell him that it would all be right, to promise him that someday he'd be the bravest person Harry had ever known._

_And I would have stayed up with you all night,_

_Had I known how to save a life._

_Harry chose to give him a silent hug in the end but he held on tighter than usual, clawing at Louis’ jumper. Louis had to pry him away._

*-*-*-*-*  
  
"Sometimes when you go home with somebody, I just lie in our bed and listen to that song. It's probably an awful thing to do. Why torture myself that way? I don't have an answer for that. Except to say that it keeps you with me when you're not. Sometimes I turn the music up so loud that I can't hear myself think. Because I don't want to. I know that if I do all I'll see is your naked body astride somebody else. Maybe it's different when I go home with someone because it's only happened a few times. Usually when I was too drunk to care. It's not the same as lying in that bed knowing you're getting intimate with somebody else every other week.

“For me it’s always just sex. But sometimes I'm afraid you'll fall for one of these guys. Because I know you. Whatever you'd like us all to think, I know you don't pick them at random. You pick the ones who make you laugh the longest or the boys who actually look you in the eye when they grind up on you. You never go home with anyone who trash talks your friends or the music you like and the guys you fuck are always bottoms. You don't want anyone to fuck _you_ unless you're really in love with them. You didn't even let your ex because you knew he wasn't the one. But sometimes it scares me to think that you will find him. The Right Guy. The one you've been waiting for. And I want to say that when the times comes I'll only be happy for you but I don't know that that’s true. Because it feels like sheer torture thinking of anyone else being your first. To think of you being in love with somebody that way. And yeah, sometimes I think it does bother you when I'm the one who goes home with someone but I don't know whether you're jealous of him or jealous of me. There's a difference, see. All I know is that the first time it happened you were like a little bull terrier. It was kind of cute…until I tried to leave."

….  
  
" _Where do you think you're going?_ "  
  
" _Um home? Xav has an early shift at Tesco's tomorrow_."  
  
_Louis raised his eyebrows as though it was the single most unimpressive thing he'd ever heard_.  
  
_"’Xav’ is it?_ _So 'Xav' wants to fuck you cheap and nasty then? Just fuck off into the night when he’s done? That's lovely Harold. Real touching_."  
  
_Harry rolled his eyes. Louis looked unfairly hot in a see through blank tank and tight jeans. His olive was damp with sweat, glistening like sugar crystals beneath the glow of the lights. Harry’s mouth had dried right up. And yes, Louis’ hair was soft and messy, just the way Harry liked it. But so what? Okay, so maybe Harry was tempted to call the whole thing off. He really wasn't all that buzzed anymore and kind of did just want to take Louis home and play with his hair till he fell asleep. But no. This wasn't about Louis. This was about the blue balls situation Harry had been dealing with ever since he met him. He had to do something about it and his own hand just wasn't good enough anymore. If Louis had a problem with it, he could just deal with it.  
  
_ " _No I will not deal with it you twat!_ " _Oops. Apparently Harry’s thoughts weren't private anymore._ _Maybe he was drunk after all._ " _You can't go home with some random guy just because he called you pretty and requested songs about your eyes_."  
  
" _What the fuck Louis_?" _His eyes were on Louis' shoes and he felt a lot dizzy_. " _You always go home with random guys and I don't say shit. Just because they have a sense of humour and a kind face, doesn't mean they're not going to slice your head off while you sleep. So please just leave me alone. I need to go, I need to fuck_."  
  
_Louis looked kind of pale, maybe even nauseous but Harry might have been projecting. Or maybe not. Louis’ whole face looked kind of tense and his eyes were strangely glassy. Harry wondered why that was._  
  
" _Okay_ ," _his voice was the quietest Harry had ever heard it_ , " _but where am I supposed to sleep_?"  
  
" _In your own dorm for once. God, can't you just leave me alone? You never leave me alone_."  
  
_So Louis did. For two whole weeks. Until Harry planned out his apology with a whole tray of cupcakes, artful dicks drawn on each one. When Louis opened up his door and saw him standing there, his face turned all red and he tried to shut it straight in Harry's face. Harry wouldn't let him. He missed him too much. Why had he said those stupid things? He didn't want Louis to leave him alone. Not ever. He hated it when Louis rolled too far away from him on the bed for christ sakes. The bed which he thought of as theirs half the time_.  
  
" _Please Lou, just hear me out. I come bearing gifts_."  
  
_He held the cupcakes aloft and counted to three in his head. Louis turned around and grabbed one just as Harry reached 2. He stared at the wonky dick on it, looking perplexed and then shrugged and took a huge bite_.  
  
“ _So you know I love to swallow dick? What else is new_?"  
  
_Harry choked a little which seemed to satisfy Louis. His cheek quivered but he bit down on it, obviously still pissed_.  
  
" _No it's like...a symbolic thing. Because I'm a dick and I acted like a dick.  I didn't meant anything I said Lou. I was just drunk and horny and it made me act like an arse_."  
  
" _Damn straight_ ," _Louis pointed his finger at him and then gobbled up the rest of the cupcake_. " _Don't think this means I forgive you but I will accept your penis cakes. As for you, you can stay but only if you’ll watch horror films with me_ _all day_ "  
  
_Harry's eyes blew wide. Louis knew. He knew that Harry had boycotted any and all horror films since he saw the ring as a kid and got scared so badly that he wet himself. This was a make or break moment for their friendship. Louis was testing his commitment to their friendship, or maybe just the size of his balls. Either way Harry was scared shitless…but how could he say no with Louis looking up at him like that? With an expression that screamed annoyance but whispered of secret vulnerability? Louis thought he would say no and that, that would be the end of it. Well Harry was going to take a leaf out of his book and stop being so fucking predictable._  
  
" _Okay_ ," _he agreed_ , " _but....lights on_?"  
  
" _Nope," Louis said, popping the 'p' as he settled down onto the raggedy lounge._  
  
_Harry whimpered a little but followed, choosing the armchair in favour of Louis kicking him off the other side of the lounge. Louis' mouth twitched with approval.  
  
Halfway into their first horror film, Harry had bitten clean through his nails and his whole body was quivering with terror. He couldn't help wondering why anybody would want to subject themselves to this. Nor could he help repeatedly glancing over at Louis and at the arm he had resting along the back of the couch. Harry kept thinking about how nice it would be to snuggle down into Louis’ side and hide his face in his chest. Things only got worse for the people in the movie and Harry didn't realise but he'd begun to cry soft, trickling tears. At the sound of a whimper, Louis pressed pause. Harry only realised it was his own when heard a forlorn sigh and the sounds of Louis turning to face him. He turned to face Louis too, brushing his tears away with the back of his sleeve_.  
  
" _I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make any noise. It's just so scary Lou_."  
  
_Louis bit his lip and then let his head fall to the side in obvious sympathy, his whole face collapsing into softness. He beckoned to Harry with open arms_.  
  
" _C'mon babe, come give us a cuddle. I'm sorry I'm such a horrible bully_."  
  
_Harry tripped and fell into Louis' side. Louis wrapped an arm around him immediately and Harry cried buckets into his singlet. He didn't even know if he was crying because of the movie or because he hurt Louis with what he said. Maybe it was because he’d missed him more than he missed his family since leaving home. When Harry's tears eventually dried, Louis pressed play again. Harry burrowed into his stomach and Louis' hand found its way into his curls. He fell asleep that way and when he woke up it was to Louis telling him that he'd ordered takeout and that they were going to watch all the Bring It On movies_.  
  
" _I don't deserve you," Harry said an hour later, mouth full of egg rolls. "You're my best friend and I wouldn’t want it any other way but I don't deserve you_."  
  
" _Harry, I was a dick to you too, it's fine. Let's just watch the chick flick and eat your penis cakes for dessert. As if we weren’t gay enough already,” Louis said, a wry kind of smile lifting his mouth. “I love you yeah?_ "  
  
_Louis looked over at him with the brightest smile and no clue as to what it might mean to Harry to hear him say that_.  
  
" _I love you too.”_

*-*-*-*-*  
  
Louis tosses in his sleep now, rolling his head along Harry's thigh and kicking out at his shin. There's a disgruntled frown on his face like he's annoyed that Harry stopped talking. So Harry continues…  
  
"How about that barnyard night we went to? I think that was the worst public boner I’ve ever had in my life…”

Louis had come out of his room in these tiny white jeans that sat low on his hips and showed off the tone of his legs. Worse still, he’d co-opted one of Harry’s red and blue flannel shirts, cut the sleeves off and then tied it around his middle so it showed off his stomach. He looked like absolute sex and when he announced his intention to score the fittest guy there that night, Harry knew it would be impossible. He would be the fittest guy there. By far.

“Your midriff still haunts my nightmares you know? Or are they fantasies? Nightmarish fantasies? Fantastic nightmares?" Harry shakes his head. "Anyway, I remember getting very drunk. There were so many guys dancing up on you and then you got up on the bar and started shaking your arse all over the place and pouring people's drinks down your chest. You were running your hands all over your thighs and winking at everybody. It was crazy sexy and it was just like you to steal everybody’s attention so quickly. My only comfort was that you didn't actually end up going home with anyone. You let some guy blow you in the toilets but you came back out and danced with _me_. You came home with _me_. And _I_ was the one who wrung out your flannel and got the alcohol stains out of your jeans. And okay, maybe I threw the flannel top out afterwards but _Jesus_ Lou. I mean did you really have to have your bare stomach on display like that? Moving on… I don't know when I realised how much of a sucker I was but I think it was about the time you invited me to your ball..."

*-*-*-*-*  
  
" _Hazzzaaaa_."  
  
" _Oh Jesus, no_."  
  
" _Don't roll your eyes at me_ ," _Louis sniffed, lying back against Harry's lap and resting his head over Harry's textbook._ _  
_  
" _I'm trying to study, Lewis. Could you please dismount_?"  
  
_Louis quirked an eyebrow_.  
  
" _I wasn't aware that I had mounted you Harold.” When Harry didn’t reply, Louis blew hot air out his mouth. “C'moooon Haz, the history of music…really_?"  
  
_Harry's hand went to his hair automatically and he scratched at Louis' scalp, earning him an unconscious smile from the older boy. Louis turned his head a little to nibble at his thigh_.  
  
" _You took the same class_ ,” _Harry reminded him_.  
  
" _Yeah but I didn't read the text book_."  
  
_Louis said textbook like it was a dirty word. Or not. He said dirty words loud enough for everybody to hear. Hence why he’d copped a lifetime ban at the uni library. Harry would take his refuge in there when he needed to study but the last time he’d tried that Louis bribed the whole footie team to go in there, pick him up and drag him out by his ankles. Harry had cussed him out for ten minutes before Louis turned to him with an imperious arch of his eyebrows and said, “are you quite finished?”_  
  
" _That's because you're a lazy shit who thinks he's better than the standard academic system_." _Harry ran his thumb down Louis' cheekbone to let him know that he didn't mean anything by it_. " _Now tell me what you want so I can get back to studying_."  
  
" _Okay_." _Louis twiddled his thumbs on his stomach, looking slightly more apprehensive than usual_. " _Okay_."  
  
" _You said that_."  
  
_Louis narrowed his eyes_.  
  
" _Harry Styles, will you be my WAG_?"  
  
" _What_?" _Harry squawked._  
  
_At which point Louis launched into his moving pitch_.  
  
" _Okay, so there's this WAG ball every year where the guys are supposed to show off their arm candy and mix with the sponsors and such. I've never been cause I **hate** those kind of events. But this year it's mandatory because the sponsors are demanding to meet the captain of the team and Coach won't let me stay home. But he warned me that my reputation needs lifting. Apparently they already know enough about me to know I'm gay but he still thinks there’s room for improvement. "Tomlinson, they don't need to know  all the sordid details of your ‘lifestyle.’ I just think it might be easier for them to swallow if you showed up with someone." Bigoted bastard. Basically he thinks we'll get more money if I show up with a steady boyfriend._"  
  
_Harry looked into Louis' expectant expression_ , _eyes crossed with confusion._  
  
" _But...you don't have a steady boyfriend_."  
  
" _Exactly. I have you_."  
  
" _I don't get it_."  
  
_Louis blew more hot air out his nose and bit Harry's thigh again._  
  
" _Jesus Harry, you’re making this really difficult.  I'm asking you to be my fake boyfriend okay? Just for the night, it's not a big deal. All you'd have to do is stand there and look pretty…and maybe like, hold my hand? Or if one of the sponsors walk past, just laugh really hard and then look at me like I'm the love of your life. You can act right_?"  
  
_No. But he wouldn't have to_.  
  
" _Won't that be weird Lou? It’ll only create more rumours_."  
  
"So? _I don't really care if people think we're together. It’s not like I’m ashamed of you or something. Unless…” Louis’ eyes were like tiny angry slits, “do you not want people thinking we're together_? _Is that a problem for you Styles?_ "  
  
_Harry was quick to shake his head. He valued his life….and ability to have children_.  
  
" _No It's not like that. It’s just…it’s not true. And I mean if you want someone pretty to hang off your arm, then why not take Zayn? He'd look much better in a suit than me_."  
  
" _Fuck off_." _Louis pushed at his stomach_ , _“That’s the worst idea. Zayn is like, next level hot but he looks like too much of a bad boy. Plus Niall’d shoot me. You, my dear, have that whole curly haired, angelic thing going on_."  
  
_Harry wrinkled his nose, seriously unimpressed and Louis rolled his eyes._  
  
" _And you're sexy too, Mr Blowjob Lips_."  
  
_That was more like it_. _Harry conceded with a sigh of affected despair._  
  
" _Fine but if I have to dress up, you're dressing up too. No backing out. Like you'll wear socks and everything_?"  
  
_Louis chuckled and nosed at Harry's shirt. He always seemed to want to get underneath and press his lips to the lines of Harry’s stomach_.  
  
" _Yes I'll wear socks_ ," _he said from beneath the material_. “ _But I'm going to look so hot that I'll knock yours right off Hazza Styles_."

*-*-*-*-*  
  
"And you did," Harry reminds a sleeping Louis. "You looked gorgeous in your blue suit jacket with that high necked collar and those tight braces framing your chest. So handsome it was like you were made for the red carpet. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

*-*-*-*-*

 _Louis stuck to him like glue all night, making him laugh with impressions of Niall hoovering up his food or by making faces behind the sponsor's backs. He was being disgustingly sweet, holding Harry’s hand all night and rubbing his thumb against the backs of his fingers. He kept pressing into Harry, full bodied and whispering little tidbits about the so called distinguished gentleman among them, his sweet breath tickling Harry's ear. Whenever they passed the more wealthy sponsors, he would kiss the side of Harry's face and nuzzle into his neck, really making a show of them being a couple. By the end of the night Harry was supremely drunk on his attention and dying inside just to kiss him._ _  
  
_ " _So how do I rank in Harry Styles' vast dating portfolio? Better than Nick_?"  
  
_They were walking through the gardens around the university, still holding hands and pressing close against each other. Louis looked luminous in the moonlight, his soft skin shimmering beneath it. His eyes were brighter than Harry had ever seen them.  
_  
" _It's not that vast_ ," _he squeezed Louis' hand_ , " _but of course you're number one. Way better than Nick. But....I didn't know this was a date_?"  
  
_It was the closest Harry had ever come to asking Louis straight up how he felt. The champagne had made him brave. Or maybe it was all that unnecessary touching.  
_  
" _Oh it's not_ ," _Louis assured him, wide eyed_ , " _and I mean, if it was I wouldn't take you here. Not on our first date babe_."  
  
_Harry tried not to let his disappointment show. Of course it wasn't a date.  
  
_ " _Oh. Where would you take me_?"  
  
_Louis looked some kind of whimsical Disney prince, smiling over at Harry with his fringe flopping across his eyes. Harry lifted it for him and Louis' smile deepened_.  
  
" _Maybe ice skating. Or I could cook_ ," _Harry snorted and Louis whacked him in the side of the arm_ , _in that way that girls do when you pull their pigtails._ _Harry did enjoy pulling Louis’ pigtails._ " _Or you could cook_," _Louis amended._ ” _Then we could watch sappy movies all night and you could snog me up against the back of the couch_."  
  
" _Oh really_?" _Harry directed his eyes away from the soft shine of Louis' mouth_. " _You really think I'd let you kiss me on the first date? Lewis, what kind of man do you think I am_?"  
  
" _The kind that doesn't mind if I slip him a bit of tongue before we fuck_."  
  
_Harry's vision went hazy and his trousers felt awfully tight._  
  
" _Well Mr Tomlinson, you couldn't be more wrong_."  
  
_Louis smirked at him like he knew exactly what Harry was thinking_.

*-*-*-*-*  
  
"Goodnight Lou," Harry whispers to him.  
  
He gently rearranges Louis on his pillow and then lays down on his own. He pulls the covers over them both, securing an arm around Louis' waist. He falls asleep with his nose buried in Louis’ soft hair.  
  
*-*-*-*-*  
  
When Harry wakes, he lets out an almighty gasp. 12:00 pm. _What the fuck_. He set his alarm for 8. Now he's already missed his musical theory class _and_ song writing 101. At that moment, his door creaks open and Louis slips in dressed in one of Harry's large jumpers and his boxers.  
  
"Oh you're awake," he says, stopping where he is. At which point Harry notices the tray holding some slightly charred toast and two huge mugs of tea. "I was going to come wake you soon but--"  
  
"Louis. What the fuck?! I've missed two classes. Why on earth did you turn off my alarm?"  
  
Louis settles the tray on Harry's bed and then sits down behind it facing Harry. His eyes are bloodshot and his face is paler than usual.  
  
"Because we need to talk and it couldn't wait." His expression softens and he reaches across and grabs Harry's hand. Harry stares at it. It's not an unusual touch for them but the tremble in Louis' hand is far from normal. "I'm sorry love."  
  
Now Harry is frightened. What could possibly be so important that Louis couldn't just wait until the end of the day? Harry's mouth quivers.  
  
"What's wrong? Is it my mum? Or yours? Are the girls okay? Shit Lou, you're scaring me."  
  
Louis leans forward on his haunches and cups Harry’s cheeks, stroking over his worry lines. Every few seconds his eyes flicker to Harry's mouth. That's new?  
  
"Don't be scared Hazza. Everyone is fine. Except well… me."  
  
"What?" Harry's voice breaks and his breathing picks up faster than before, "you're sick?"  
  
Louis chuckles and then leans back, pushing the tray onto Harry's lap.  
  
"No silly. You eat, I'll talk."  
  
Harry nods but he's still reluctant to listen. Whatever it is, it can't possibly be good. Shit, what if Louis' finally figured out that he's so much better than Harry? What if he doesn't want to spend his nights here anymore? _Fuck. Don't cry don't cry don't cry_.  
  
Louis lets him eat for a while (unfortunately) and bides his time by playing with his fingers, studiously avoiding Harry's eyes. When Harry's halfway through his tea and Louis has pushed his own away like he couldn't bear it, he finally opens his mouth.  
  
"I found him."  
  
Not what Harry was expecting.  
  
"What? Found who?"  
  
"The Right Guy. I mean…you know I've never really been in love. Because I’ve never found anybody I liked enough to want to spend all my time with. But I did. And he's everything I could possibly want in a boyfriend. He's gorgeous, funny, brilliant and he thinks the world of me too. I think he's even....I think maybe he feels the same way I do. I knew the first week I met him that he was different, like in a good way and that I wanted to be with him all the time. I wanted to be with him as long as he would let me. But I was a fool, a gutless fool and things got confused. Because I didn't know what he was thinking.  But then how could I know? You never told me--"  
  
" _I_ never told you what?" Harry exclaims, spitting his tea back into his mug, "what are you talking about Lou?"  
  
Louis covers Harry’s hands with his own and brings them to his mouth, gently brushing his lips across Harry’s knuckles.  
  
"How you _feel_ Harry. You never told me about everything you said last night when you thought I was asleep. That you think I'm brave. And that—that all those songs, they're about me? That I'm everywhere but you _like_ it? God Harry, why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"You were awake?!" Harry's voice is quickly climbing in pitch but he can't help it. He shoves the tray off the bed with a clatter and then hauls Louis into his lap. " _Please_ tell me you're joking."  
  
But Harry knows he's not. It explains the exhaustion on his face and the gravity in his eyes. He knows. _Fuck_.  
  
"Louis, Lou I'm not--"  
  
" _Hey_. Harry," Louis grabs his face again and slides his fingers into his curls. "Babe, you're not hearing me. I said I _found_ him. It’s _you_ Hazza, I’m in love with _you_ baby. I have been since I met you."  
  
"What?! _No_ —no you're not!"  
  
Harry's heart is racing and he must be sweating bullets. Louis' eyes are wide and sincere but this feels a lot like a dream sequence. Louis chuckles and squeezes Harry’s cheeks in his palms, sliding down further into his lap and wrapping his thighs around Harry’s waist.  
  
"Yes I am. Are you really arguing with me right now? Last night you said that I was the one who didn't bring up our almost kiss. But babe, neither did _you_. I pretended I didn't remember but I did. I wasn't as drunk as you thought and when I woke up, I was terrified. I didn't want to lose you Harry. So I pretended that nothing happened and waited to see if you would mention it. But you never did. And still my biggest regret was that I fucking fell on my fat arse instead of just kissing you like I wanted to. Like I’ve always wanted to. But Harry, why didn’t _you_ bring it up?"  
  
Harry's face feels very hot and his fingers are shaking where they're buried in the back of Louis’ (his) jumper.

"Because you were drunk! I didn't think it meant anything to you." It only takes Harry a few seconds to realise how ridiculous he’s being. "Wait, you're in love with me? Like…really?"  
  
Louis knocks their noses together and grips him by the back of the neck, stroking the base of his throat with the soft pad of his thumb.  
  
"Yeah Hazza.” Louis’ smile looks like a little bow shaped berry. “…Like proper head over heels, kind of want to barf at how much I adore you, _in_ love."  
  
" _Fuck_."

Louis’ expression turns speculative.

"I'd like to but I think maybe I should kiss you first."  
  
Harry nods his head in a jerky bob and Louis giggles. Then he’s leaning down to press his mouth to Harry's. It’s a gentle, chaste kiss but sunshine explodes behind Harry's eyelids and he slips his hand up inside Louis' jumper, rubbing at the small of his back. It's warm beneath his fingertips and Louis arches into the kiss, slipping his tongue out to wet Harry's lips. Harry opens up his mouth to him instantly. They snog until Harry's head feels loose and woollen and Louis’ begun to gently rock against him, bringing their cocks together with quiet desperation.  
  
"Did I say it back?" Harry pants, breaking their kiss, "that I love you?"  
  
Louis pouts at him and leans back in. Harry grins but turns his head away.  
  
"C'mon Lou, _focus_. Did I tell you?"  
  
Louis huffs and sucks at his neck, reaching down to palm Harry through his briefs. Harry hisses and bucks up into his touch.  
  
"I don't _know_ Harold. I don’t care."

Harry knows it’s a blatant lie.  
  
"Louis?"  
  
"Yeah Hazza?"  
  
Harry pauses and Louis detaches himself from his neck, looking up at him with stunning blue eyed bliss.  
  
"I love you too."  
  
Louis smiles softly, batting his eyelashes down against his cheeks. Then he scrubs at Harry's hip, pressing hard against the " _adorable_ " part of his tattoo.  
  
"You look irresistible in the mornings Haz. Have I ever told you that?" Harry shakes his head, eyes like saucers in his face. Louis is looking at him with stars in his eyes, like he has something the rest of the world should be envious of. Maybe he's always looked at him this way but Harry's never noticed it before. "Whenever I woke up before you I’d just watch you sleeping and be so jealous of the man who’d get to wake up beside you for the rest of his life. Because I wanted it to be me. I still do. I was jealous of the person you wrote your songs for and _all_ the people who had ever kissed you. Fucking killed me to see you with other people."  
  
"I never knew," Harry hauls him down into a passionate kiss, "but there was _only_ you. I couldn't even fuck anybody else unless I was drunk."  
  
"There's more..." Louis places his hands on Harry's thighs. "You told me so much last night. Even if you didn't mean to. And I want you to know that everything was about you. _For_ you. The tight trousers. My midriff. Purposely burning the toast so you'd get up and come into the kitchen. So I could get you pressed up behind me, all naked and like—cute, though. You’re so cute and confused in the morning."  
  
Harry thinks _he’s_ cute but he narrows his eyes with suspicion. Louis rolls his.  
  
"Okay, _sometimes_ I burnt things on purpose _._ I’ll admit it wasn't always intentional. But I mean how did you not know I had a huge embarrassing crush on you Harold? I wear your clothes, I moved into your dorm. Love, I slow danced with you in your kid bedroom. Didn't that tip you off at all?"  
  
Harry can giggle about it all now. Cause yeah, maybe he was an idiot. Maybe it was obvious. But Louis is way out of his league. How could he have known that someone so amazing could think of him in the same way? It's still so hard to comprehend. So Harry kisses him again, smiling into it and squeezing Louis' middle tight.  
  
"I just have to know," Louis breaks away with a wet smack, "why are you not sick of me yet? We've spent all our time together since we met. I'm like a human mosquito, leeching off you and always hanging around like a bad smell."  
  
"No," Harry kisses above his eyebrow and then down the side of his face to his jaw where he plants a firm one on his lips, "you're not any of those things. You keep me sane and I love that you won't go away. You test my patience, that’s for sure but I wouldn’t have it any other way. And I don't want that to change, even now _. Especially_ now. You'll always be my best friend Lou."  
  
" _Hazza_."  
  
Louis' strangled plea is like music to Harry’s ears.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Be mine?"  
  
"I'm yours already," Harry kisses him soft and sweet, "I love you Lou Bear."  
  
"I told you not to call me that," Louis grumbles but there’s Harry crinkles by his eyes and a mountain of fond in his crystalline blue. Then he cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Wait, did you really throw my flannel top away?”

Harry laughs openly in his face but he can’t help the blush that spreads over his cheeks at the mention of it.

“ _My_ flannel top,” he corrects quietly.

Louis’ eyes narrow into slits but the smile is still there, lurking around the corners.

“You’re in so much trouble mister.”  
  
"Mm," Harry noses at the collar of his jumper, "can you get naked now please?"  
  
"Before the first date?" Louis raises his eyebrows, "Harold, what have you done with the fine, upstanding gentleman your mother raised?"  
  
Harry reverses their positions, pushing Louis down against the pillow. He leans over him, arms either side of his head.  
  
"He's taking a back seat. Or maybe he's just waited way too long to have his way with you."  
  
Harry lowers himself until their bodies are pressed flush against each other. He can feel Louis hard beneath him. He splits his legs and rocks down against him. Louis moans and tugs him down into a kiss.  
  
"Have it then," he says roughly, “fuck me boyfriend."  
  
Harry growls and sinks his teeth into the side of Louis' neck. He slides a hand beneath Louis' boxers and cups his throbbing cock, jerking him to the rhythm of his heartbeat while he works on a huge love bite. Louis writhes beneath him.  
  
"Harry. _Hazza_. Babe please."  
  
"What do you want?" Harry whispers, mouthing at the underside of his chin.  
  
"You," Louis whines, " _inside_."  
  
Harry pushes his shirt up and then tugs it over his head, hands roaming. But Louis' whining picks up and Harry can't resist him. He never knew Louis was this needy when it came to sex and it's driving him crazy. Maybe it's just knowing that Louis' never bottomed before, that he's never actually been this vulnerable with anybody else. Harry rips Louis’ boxers off and throws them clear off the bed. Then he works a hand inside his own briefs, staring at Louis' naked arse while he pulls himself off to the sight.  
  
"You have the best arse in the world, no contest."  
  
"Great," Louis sounds breathless, "now stop jerking off and fuck it already."  
  
Harry pulls a bottle of lube and a condom from the drawer, dropping them down beside Louis. Then he coats his fingers in lube and gently presses one up against Louis' entrance.  
  
"You feel that?" He asks, "that's going to be inside you in a minute, are you sure you're ready for that?"  
  
"Yes!" Louis cries out. "Stop being such a fucking baby."  
  
Harry rolls his eyes. Sex with Louis already feels a lot like dealing with a drill sergeant. Power bottom, what an understatement. Lucky it’s such a big turn on. With careful precision, Harry slowly pushes his finger past the tightness of Louis’ rim. It sucks him in slowly, stretching around his fingers. Louis' breathing halts and then changes, becoming more uneven but he doesn't protest the intrusion. When Harry adds a second finger, he starts to rock down against them, head thrown back in ecstasy.  
  
"Good baby?" Harry squeezes his side and watches with satisfaction when Louis shivers all over and bounces down on his fingers.  
  
"Yeah," Louis pants and there's no snark in his tone now. "So good babe."  
  
Harry takes that as his cue. He pulls his fingers out and then quickly dives in with his tongue. He laps at Louis' hole until Louis’ crying into his arms and rolling his hips back onto Harry's face. When he jabs his tongue inside, Louis thrashes and screams. Harry's never seen anything so hot. By the time he flips Louis back over and pulls his own underwear off, he's rock hard and dripping.  
  
"Come here big boy."  
  
It should by all rights sound ridiculous but Louis' voice is ragged from screaming and his face is flushed and blotchy from his tears. He looks wrecked and Harry hasn't even fucked him yet. Louis tugs until Harry's cock nudges his chin and his thighs rest either side of his chest. Then he takes Harry's cock in hand and swallows him whole. He draws back up for air after a minute but then sucks him right back down again, taking him into his throat and humming around his length. Harry breathes out through his nose and tries very hard not to come straight down Louis’ throat.  
  
It turns out that Louis isn't so tough and fearless when it comes to being fucked for the first time. After Harry has lubed up his cock and rolled on a condom, he starts to nudge Louis’ entrance with his cock but Louis tenses up noticeably. Harry tries to calm him down with his kiss but Louis urges him to stop. Harry pulls back instantly, kissing Louis until he goes pliant again.  
  
"I promise I'll go slow. And you can hold my hands like this, see? I'll make you feel good Lou, I swear. But if you don't want to, it's okay. I love you no matter what."  
  
Louis' fingers interlock with his but he lets out a petulant sigh.  
  
"You're babying me Harold."  
  
"No, baby." Harry says, giggling at his own joke, "I'm not babying you."  
  
Louis twists his nipple. Harry groans and ruts down against him.  
  
“Bit of a kink there Harold?"  
  
"Shut up," Harry sulks.  
  
Louis chuckles. Then his hand is on Harry's dick and he's guiding him inside his tight hole. Harry pushes in at the pace of a snail, watching Louis like a hawk for any signs of distress. Louis' face tenses up a bit but as soon as Harry's fully sheathed inside, his expression smooths out and his eyes fall shut. Harry rocks into him gently at first but then Louis urges him on with little grunts and clenches of his hole and Harry pushes in hard. Soon enough his hips are slapping against Louis' bum and he slams into Louis' prostate with every thrust. Louis screams and wraps his legs around Harry's back, pulling him in deeper.  
  
"Harder Hazza, _please_ ," Louis whimpers, nails scratching over Harry’s spine.  
  
That does it. Harry is relentless, snapping his hips against Louis' until that familiar heat starts to claw at his insides and he can feel his orgasm building.  
  
"Lou," he shouts, "fuck baby, I'm going to come."  
  
"Me too, me too," Louis' eyes roll back into his head and then Harry feels his come splashing onto his stomach between them.  
  
Harry shudders and then spills into the condom, thrusts slowing and then coming to a complete stop as Louis' tight heat gets a little too much. He pulls out with a quiet hiss and then deposits the used condom in the bin beside the bed. When he rolls over, Louis' eyes are halfway to closed. It's then that Harry remembers he hasn't slept all night.  
  
"You poor sweetheart," Harry strokes the side of his cheek, "you must be completely worn out."  
  
Louis has enough energy to snap his teeth at Harry’s finger.  
  
"Just because we're dating now, doesn’t mean you get to treat me like a child. In fact I'd really appreciate it if you didn't. It's kind of creepy."  
  
Louis can sass him all he wants. It won't get rid of the sappy grin on Harry’s face or the pleasant buzz in his veins.  
  
"I love you. I love it when you fall asleep in my arms or when I fall asleep in yours. I love it when your dreams get really vivid and you move all your limbs at the same time. One day I'm going to marry you Lou and have all your babies. We're going to have a tiny little son and name him something strange. But he'll be ours and he'll be special...just like his daddy."  
  
"God Haz, have you already planned out our entire future in just the past half hour?"  
  
There's a trace of a smile on his lips. Harry kisses the corner of them.  
  
"No Lou, I've been planning it ever since I met you. I just never thought I'd get the chance to see it through."  
  
"Well Styles, you know the drill. I haven’t got a heart babe so don't expect me to buy you flowers or remember our anniversaries."  
  
Harry doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to. Louis ends up buying him flowers on their first date (to the ice skating rink, Harry cooks him dinner after) and he’s kind of a gem when it comes to satisfying all of Harry’s dreams for them. They get married in the wilderness, surrounded by only their closest friends and family. Anne and Jay sob into each other’s shoulders as Louis makes his way down the aisle towards a beaming Harry. Harry takes a million years to read his vows but everybody cries, _including_ Louis and nobody seems to mind his pace. Louis counteracts it anyway, speaking way too fast and finishing three quarters of the way through because he’s too choked up to continue. Most importantly, he does remember their anniversaries. Every single one. All 65 of them.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? x
> 
> P.s Kudos are much appreciated. Like very much. Like leads to hairbush singing and pyjama dancing much.


End file.
